whenever I NEED to get home (wherever that is) I actually need to stay
here and deal with whatever's coming up. The other day I was talking
about this desire to run "home" that comes up every few weeks or so,
and we were talking about the concept of home. What is it, anyway? For
me? I don't necessarily have a home - I have parents who welcome me
into their house whenever I show up, but I don't have a space in a
community, I don't have a town, and what is home anyway? How can it be
anything but wherever you are?
As I was talking, hearing this out loud, a quote from the Dalai Lama
floated through my head - "Whenever I meet someone, I act as though
I'm a member of their family."
This makes the whole world a member of my family.
And I looked around at the people sitting on the porch, the people
I've shared stories with and talked about love and meditation and
surfing and frustration and shared massages with, and I realized that
right here and now, this is my family. If I accept these people as my
family, they are.
Here I am, in the midst of my family. I've been enjoying sharing and
caring - it's almost as if it's a contest to see who can do the most
for the house, without an ounce of competition or expectation. The
dishes are always done, someone cleaned the bathroom, rearranged the
porch furniture and indoor furniture, brought CD's to play, incense to
burn...every day, I ask myself, what can I do for this community I'm
living in?
